Viva La Vida
by ellesmer.joe3
Summary: As the Hogwarts Quidditch championship approaches, Natalie Hunt, Sydney Bryce, Delsin Rowe, and Reggie Rowe - also known as the Americans of Hogwarts - will have their bonds tested. But not only for friendship. And in the end of it all, perhaps some good will come out of it. [written for a friend, put up here for funzies. no flames please.]
1. Chapter 1

**little birthday request for a friend, thought i'd put it up here for funzies. :)**

**i do not own the universe of Harry Potter, only my OC's found here.**

* * *

It was the Friday before the big Championship game of the weekend. The Gryffindor Quidditch team was on their way to the field, garbed in their gaming robes with broomsticks at hand.

Natalie Hunt walked at the head of the large group, shoulder to shoulder with her co-captain, Reggie Rowe. He looked quite intimidating, with the cape of his suit billowing behind him, following after the heels of his feet as the sunlight turned his hair into a dark fiery shade of brown. His face was pulled into a deep scowl; during breakfast that morning, he had expressed his deep wish to beat his brother and his team in the Championship, but he wasn't the only one with such longings; almost the whole of Gryffindor team wanted to prove themselves to someone.

But Natalie in particular wanted to out-fly Slytherin's Seeker, who was, coincidentally, also her boyfriend—her mischief-loving, quick-witted significant other who just happened to be named after the Norse God of Lies.

Loki outdid her with almost everything: potions, Herbology, Arithmancy. They were equal in terms of spell casting, but she would never come close to his final grade in Defense Against The Dark Arts. However, it didn't surprise her that that subject was his forte.

The corridors were quiet, save for a few students who scuttled past Natalie; headed for the library or the Great Hall of wherever else they needed to be. As a prefect, Natalie considered telling them off—"No running in the halls!"—but it was, after all, her last year. And she didn't want to be remembered as the control-freak senior.

She and Reggie led their team through the numerous passages and staircases. Behind her, she could hear the others talking amongst themselves; the Beaters playfully rough-housing, and the three Chasers strategizing silently. Whenever a Slytherin walked by, be it freshman or upper years, they would fall silent. And when the Slytherin passed, their muttering would return quickly.

Finally, Reggie strode forward and pushed the doors to the outside open. The massive maple gates made a loud creaking sound as they separated, revealing the wide, open field that students used for one purpose only. Before Natalie had even stepped through the doorway, her teammates mounted their brooms and hastily kicked off, missing Nat's and Reg's heads by inches. She, herself, remained by Reggie and observed their subordinates wordlessly. Natalie couldn't help but to feel the excitement rushing through her veins; her grip on her broomstick tightened, but she was able to contain herself from flying off.

Once her co-captain seemed to be satisfied with their teammates' forms, he took out a taped-up ball of paper from within his robes. It was barely the size of his whole palm, but Natalie perked up at the sight of it. She'd only just mounted her broom when Reggie suddenly pushed his arm outward; she had to admit, he could give a good throw. The ball travelled halfway across the field in two seconds. Natalie gave the floor beneath her feet a soft kick, and she was in the air.

The feeling of warm wind against her cheeks revived her. Her broom carried her faster than any car could, and with a quick swipe of her arm, she had the paper ball in her hand. Smiling from ear to ear, Natalie glanced below her and found that Reggie had wandered to the center of the field, where a familiar black chest was waiting for him. It wasn't shaking, but Natalie knew that the dreaded Bludgers were inside; so she quickly retreated back down onto the ground. She landed lightly and took off running just as Reggie unclasped the locks.

She reached him just in time, but one of the Bludgers, for some reason, hadn't been sealed in place. It flew out of the chest, emitting the all-too familiar noise that disturbingly sounded like the echo of a bone cracking; it narrowly missed Natalie's nose, which would have shattered instantly against the force of the Jinxed ball. A strangled groan escaped her throat as she watched it soar into the air, only to be hit by Christopher Pettigrew's bat. The Bludger flew into Reggie's outstretched arms and, as always, it was a miracle he didn't crack his ribs. Natalie added her weight onto it and they wrestled the thing back into its hollow. Reggie locked it into place and they collapsed onto sitting positions.

Breathing heavily, Natalie exclaimed: "Every time."

Reggie raised his head and looked at Christopher. "Nice hit, Pettigrew!" he called, offering the younger Beater a thumbs-up. Christopher returned the gesture, but quickly returned his attention to Paul Ferguson, who was catcalling different maneuvers. Natalie watched the Pettigrew boy fondly; he was very misunderstood. Meanwhile, Reggie had released the Quaffle, throwing it high into the air where it was caught by a junior Chaser, Patrick Newell.

"Wait for me by the goal posts!" Reggie told him. "I'll catch you guys up with the maneuvers."

Patrick, being the oldest of the group, nodded in understanding then conveyed the order to his fellow Chasers. Together, they flew off to the other side of the field, where the goal posts were.

Reggie mounted his broom. "Lock it up when you've gotten the Snitch, yeah?"

"Got it," Natalie replied, even though it wasn't a question. She watched him fly up into the air and trail after the rest of the team. Christopher and Paul flew off to the side of the field, where they would no doubt talk about the different positions they would take up during the game. That left Natalie standing on the field by herself, though she wasn't disheartened. She was quite proud that her subordinates didn't need to be told what to do, because they already knew. She scuffled onto her feet and crept to stand in front of the black chest once more.

Looking past the noisy, trembling Bludger, Natalie unclasped the lock of one of the smaller containers and pulled out the small, round object from within. Beneath the sunlight, its smooth surface shone as bright as a rich warlock's Gringotts vault. It was only just as big as her palm, and yet it had the power to change everything in a game. It started humming slightly between Natalie's fingers and, from within the wire-thin slits revolving the orb, there appeared four wings similar to a dragonfly's.

Natalie held fast, but the Snitch continued rapidly flapping its wings, grazing the hollows of her fingernails. Grimacing, Natalie hastily closed and locked the chest and dragged it to the side. Then, she let go of the Snitch; it immediately flew off to the side of her head, the wind from beneath its wings blowing on her ponytail. It acted like an overly-active mockingbird, but even a mockingbird would not be able to best it in a race. The Ministry had decided to enhance a Snitch's speed, considering the amount of new broomsticks that were being released; it was only fair, Natalie supposed. In front of her, the Snitch continued flapping from one place to another, a blur in her eyes. She slowly mounted her broom, but the Snitch seemed to sense this and flew off, disappearing in the distance.

_I seriously don't understand how it does that._ Natalie groaned inwardly, but otherwise kicked up and started the chase.

It was a miracle she could still see the thing while flying so fast, and without her Vision-Enhancing Goggles. But Reggie had ordered her to practice without them—"Get used to it," he said—and she wasn't in the position to say otherwise, despite being equal with him.

The Snitch flew to the farthest reaches of the field; from the corner of her eye, Natalie glimpsed her co-captain training with the Chasers. Hannah Finnigan had the Quaffle in her arms, she passed it to someone with fiery red hair **(guess who?)** who attempted to get it into one of the goals. It would have been a good point if Reggie hadn't caught it. Natalie vaguely heard him barking instructions, but was forced to switch her attention back to the Snitch, which was veering quite too close to the borders of the Forbidden Forest.

Before it could cross, the Shielding Charm the Ministry had ordered be placed around the school pushed it back. Ripples glided across the surface of the shield, branching from where the Snitch had hit. The Snitch fluttered along the border for a moment, as if confused with what had just happened; then it changed its course and was suddenly flying directly towards Natalie. She, in her distracted and unprepared state, knew she could only do so much to dodge the enchanted object without jumping off her broom.

A startled cry escaped her lips before she gave the grip of her broom a hard tug. The world turned in over itself and, through her heavy-lidded gaze, Natalie was able to force her arm outward; a reflex action, almost; she could have been grabbing empty air. She caught _something_ though.

Still upside down, she took a quick glance at her hand and found the Snitch waiting for her there, its dragonfly wings beating weakly.

Someone yelled at her from the side: "Nice catch, Natalie!" It was Eric Hao, one of the extra Chasers. Natalie tilted her head and saw that he, along with the other Chasers and along with Reggie, was looking at her.

"It was a lucky catch," she called back in reply. "Now stop staring and go back to practice!" Reggie added something incoherent and the Chasers quickly returned their attention to the other captain.

Natalie twisted her and her broom back to an upright position. The Snitch, which had grown slippery in her sweaty hand, seemed to restart itself, renewing its struggle against her fingers even though it was futile. Natalie released a heavy grunt and released the object; she didn't watch it fly away, instead looking down at the razor thin cuts on the sides of her hand. She really should have worn gloves, like what she'd reminded the rest of her team… not that they followed.

A minute or two passed, with her just floating there, flexing her fingers from her broomstick as she waited for the Snitch to blur across her line of sight. Soon enough, it did; barely a speck but she saw it anyway. Natalie leaned forward and trailed after it.

Mister Parker had instructed them to train in the field instead of the stadium, and without the obvious structures lined along the usual margins of a Quidditch match, it quickly became difficult for her to navigate while keeping her eyes glued to the Snitch.

It didn't veer to the borders again, but it led her closer to the school's walls than she felt comfortable doing. She nearly grazed against the sharp tiled of the roof once, and almost got knocked off her broom because of a statue. With her hands so moist against the smooth wood of her broom, she was trying so hard not to fall over. Chasing the Snitch at such a fast pace resulted in many close calls with windows and walls; sometimes, there were people behind the windows, and they would jump in surprise when Natalie zoomed by.

She counted the seconds that passed in her head in an attempt at multi-tasking; and approximately three minutes had passed before there was a loud creaking noise. Natalie's eyes snapped to the large maple doors and found them already wide open, with a dozen familiar, green-caped students walking out of them. Just then, the Snitch took a sharp turn towards the boy leading the group. Natalie cursed and tucked her legs in, willing her broom to go faster. From behind her, there came the familiar voice of Reggie shouting something Natalie couldn't understand. She was much closer to the horde of Slytherins rather than the Keeper, considering she was flying in from behind them.

A grin spread across her face as she and the Snitch got dangerously close to the boy at the head of the Slytherins. At the last second, before she entered the initial diameter of the group, she yelled: "DUCK!"

The Snitch whizzed over their heads as the Slytherins bent over, followed by Natalie. As she flew over their captain, missing his head by inches, she leapt from her broom. The momentum threw her forward and she caught the Snitch out of the air, right before impacting with the ground.

It didn't hurt nearly as much as she thought it would, though there would be bruises on her hips later. Natalie tucked her arms in so as to not break anything; she skidded to a stop, and the momentum broke when she was on her back. The Snitch stopped beating its wings, and the fact that it was the first time she'd ever done that dawned on Natalie. Chuckling, she dragged herself onto her feet, and it was moments later that she realized someone was helping her up.

"That was foolish," Loki murmured, his hands like vices on Natalie's forearm.

She laughed out loud. "That was awesome!"

A frown appeared on his smooth face. "You've been with Sydney for too long."

Natalie rolled her eyes. "I _grew up_ with Sydney. I think that's a pretty good excuse—"

"I heard my name!"

Said Slytherin Chaser appeared from within the group and towards the two Seekers, broom in hand and a large smile on her face. She regarded them with a sparkle in her eye. "Do the lovebirds need a room?"

Loki eyed the magical object in Natalie's hand with a smirk. "I must say," he drawled, "It was a very good save."

"Tell me about it." Natalie smiled at her, brushing the thin layer of dirt off the Snitch. She opened her mouth to say more, for as much as she wanted to best the Seeker in a match, she couldn't deny him her softer side. But someone beat her to it, and he wasn't nearly as lenient… and he wasn't talking to Loki either.

"Oi!" Joshua Pemmington said, addressing Natalie in an angry tone. "That's my team you almost got killed, Hunt!"

"As I recall," Loki started coolly. "_I'm_ the captain, and they're _my_ team."

"And you really think a broom would have killed you?" Natalie smirked slightly. "It would've given you a few scratches at most, but kill you? You're being melodramatic." From the corner of her eye, she caught Loki give her an approving look.

Pemmington wasn't done. "You trying to get my team injured, then?" he snarled. "Aimin' to break a few bones so Gryffindor can win the Championships tomorrow? Or did you just want to get the captain dead?"

"I wasn't trying to get _anyone_ dead," Natalie retorted plainly. Beside her, Sydney scoffed and stepped in.

"You afraid of a broom, Pemmington?" she said, waving her broom in front of his face and making him back up. She wrestled the Snitch out of Natalie's hand despite the latter's disapproving wince. "You afraid of the Snitch, too? You should be; it could fly into your ear and start nibbling on your brain!"

Her fellow Slytherins roared with laughter; Loki's frame shook with barely concealed chuckles. Natalie had slipped her hand into his, reveling in the warmth, but she saw the way Pemmington's eyes widened in rage, and she had a feeling about what was coming next. Before she could call on his girlfriend, Finnigan, who was on her team, one of the Slytherin players muttered something to his mates, and Pemmington lost it.

He withdrew his wand from the confines of his robes and whirled around, waving it wildly. "Who said that?" he bellowed, but no one replied. Everyone had backed away in shock, Reggie, Sydney, Natalie, and Loki, however, all took careful steps toward the junior.

"Put your wand down, Pemmington," said Loki in a low voice, the same time Sydney called for Hannah Finnigan. The girl had been flying with the Chasers, but as soon as she heard, she levelled then came barreling towards them. She was too late though.

Reggie spoke: "Don't be stupid—" but was cut off by the loud cry that left Pemmington's lips: "_Expulso!_"

Everyone dived for the ground; Loki landed on top of Natalie, shielding her, and past his shoulder she could see the Slytherins struggling to contain their Beater from behind. With much luck, Natalie was able to retrieve her wand from the small pocket on her sleeve. "_Stupefy!_" she yelled, and the spell hit Pemmington's stomach; he went limp, and Sydney jumped up from within the mass of Slytherins.

"Take him to the headmaster," she ordered. "You won't be playing tomorrow, Pemmington!" Two Slytherins dragged him off into the castle, without his hand and without his broom.

Loki helped Natalie onto her feet, and it occurred to her that it was the second time that day she had found herself on the ground. Hannah Finnigan came running up to them, gasping for air, her eyes wide: "I should—"

"Go." Reggie nodded his approval. Natalie didn't watch the girl run after her boyfriend, her eyes intent on watching her co-captain converse with his brother, Delsin Rowe, AKA senior Chaser for Slytherin. Their discussion looked heated, and Natalie forced herself to look away when she felt Loki slip his hand into hers.

She squeezed it, and said, "Thank you."

"Interesting practice," he murmured into her hair, kissing the top of her head. And she no longer had the audacity to revel in the newfound fact that they had one less thickheaded Beater to deal with.


	2. Chapter 2

**i do not own the universe of Harry Potter, only my OC's found here.**

* * *

Quidditch – Reggie

_Quidditch_ – Sydney

_**Quidditch**_ – Natalie

* * *

Clouds swam overhead as Reggie glared up at Loki Mardling, who levitated on his broom above the rest of them; he was throwing Natalie, Reggie's Seeker, coy looks, and Reggie could only bend his neck so far to see Natalie trying to keep her composition. He knew it was a bad idea to let her date another Seeker; Slytherin had been their biggest opponent ever since their first year in Hogwarts, and the fight had been going on unevenly for both sides. Sometimes, Gryffindor would snag the trophy, sometimes, it was Slytherin. Now with his best Seeker being in a relationship with the captain of the enemy team, Reggie wasn't sure what the odds were anymore.

But he knew that Loki's bond with Natalie wasn't on very good terms when it came to Quidditch, for Natalie was very competitive, and Reggie found consolation in that. He took a quick glance around him and at his team: they had put their games faces on. He felt a surge of pride swell inside his chest, but that was before the referee appeared below them. Then he was just as grim as the rest.

"Welcome to the Hogwarts Quidditch Championships, between the houses Slytherin and Gryffindor!" said Mister Piff Parker, the sandy-haired, middle-aged man who had been serving as Hogwarts' Flying instructor and Quidditch referee for as long as anyone could remember. He held his wand to the bottom of his jaw so that his voice could be magnified, and the crowd, teachers and students alike, roared in their excitement.

He removed his wand soon enough as the people in the stands fell into a respectable silence. "We'll have a clean game today, won't we?" he said, addressing the players. Reggie nodded his head once, his eyes never leaving the instructor; he took note of the pointed look Piff had sent Sydney at the other team. She was known for her tricks during games: she would hide studded rings beneath her gloves and, as soon as she was playing, she would hit anyone who ever got near. It always proved to be very painful; Reggie knew firsthand.

Sydney returned Piff's gaze and briskly bobbed her head. Piff nodded once. "Scoring for the Quaffle will be ten points as usual; catching the Snitch will give a hundred and fifty points." Reggie didn't understand why he always had to repeat these things during every game, but he wasn't in the position to argue.

Across him, Reggie narrowed his eyes at the Slytherin's Chasers, memorizing their faces and taking note of the way their hands flexed against their brooms. There was Scott Malfoy, with his fingers tight against his handle; he must have been nervous. And then there were Sydney and Delsin, the latter being Reggie's own brother.

Reggie looked at each of Sydney's fingers and found that they were not thick enough to be harboring rings beneath the gloves. Delsin had a smug smile on his face, as he always did; he winked at Reggie, who returned it with a small smile. It did nothing to change his competitive mood.

Loki had found a replacement Beater for Pemmington under such short notice, which both impressed and irritated Reggie to no extents. He regarded the replacement with calculating eyes, knowing his name to be Ivan Clarke. Beside Ivan was Slytherin's Keeper, Dylan Malfoy, the older twin of Scott. At the beginning of the season, it surprised Reggie when Loki didn't put Dylan and Scott as Beaters, so he just assumed that their coordination hadn't been up to par.

Dylan caught Reggie's eye but did not keep it for long, instead intent on staring down at Piff, who had begun to unlock the black chest containing the four Quidditch balls.

There came a sudden, soft shout from above, and Reggie raised his head to find Loki looking down at him with mischievous eyes. "Stop ogling my team, Reggie," he said, and Reggie felt a snarl crawl up his throat.

"Silence, Mardling!" Piff called from below, effectively muzzling Loki. Reggie returned his gaze to the referee just in time to see him kick the black chest; the lid flew open, and milliseconds later, the two Bludgers had flown out. Though none of them had started terrorizing any of the players, Reggie caught several of his team watching them with wary eyes. A golden blur flashed across Reggie's vision, and he didn't need to look up to know that the Snitch had flown straight upward, presenting itself to the two Seekers waiting above.

Piff leaned down and picked the Quaffle out of the box. He held it in his hand for a few moments, and Reggie held his breath. Piff brought his whistle to his lips, threw the Quaffle up, and blew. The next few seconds was a blur of frenzy and commanding yells, but the Quaffle had been caught—by whom, Reggie didn't know. He only knew that the game had begun, and he had to defend Gryffindor's title.

* * *

_Seven minutes into the game, it started raining—hard. Sydney knew that none of her players had brought their goggles, as neither Loki nor she had told them to. She didn't have one as well, but everything was going by swimmingly, if she had to say so herself._

_ The score was 30-70, in Slytherin's favor. _Oh, scratch that,_ Sydney thought, watching tentatively from behind the scoring area as Scott threw the Quaffle; it gave an impressive curve before blowing past one of the goals. Slytherins roared from all around the court, and a small smile crept up Sydney's lips. _30-80,_ she continued._

_ Reggie had a large scowl on his face when he threw the Quaffle back into play, and Sydney made a mental note to cheer him up after the game. He was always so serious._

_ Scott caught the Quaffle and immediately made a backward flip, passing it to Sydney as he was upside down. She zipped past Patrick Newell and, upon hearing him swear below his breath, laughed out loud. The Gryffindors Weasley and Finnigan flew up beside her and started closing in, but past each of them, Sydney could make out the evident green capes billowing. She threw the Quaffle to her left, far from the reach of Finnigan, and just as Delsin was bringing his arm up to grab it, Weasley appeared out of nowhere and caught the Quaffle in the crook of her elbow, before spinning in a loop and redirecting herself towards the Slytherin goal posts._

_ Sydney, Delsin, and Scott made a brave attempt to retrieve the Quaffle once more, but Weasley and Finnigan had more tricks up their sleeves than any of them expected, and the minute ended with Gryffindor scoring another ten points._

_ Dylan Malfoy was forced to throw the Quaffle back into play with more force than was necessary, and it was caught by Newell, this time. He looped past Scott and the Slytherin Beaters easily, back into the middle of the court; Sydney and Delsin trailed after him, closing in just as he was closing in on their scoring area. Then Sydney heard the familiar, disturbing noise of a Bludger, and ducked and lowered her flight just in time._

_ It flew over her head, almost bruising her scalp with how close it was. It missed the end of Delsin's broom by an inch, but he didn't seem to notice so much as his eyes were trained on Newell, who had entered the scoring area._

_ Sydney slowly came to a halt, but remained rigid with anticipation; she watched Newell fly to the goal at the farthest right, bringing his throwing arm up. Dylan intercepted him immediately, but Newell passed the ball to Finnigan, who was waiting at the farthest left. She caught it, and Dylan was fast, but apparently not fast enough. Finnigan deftly curved the ball around him and to Weasley, who caught it and chucked it into the middle goal._

_ None of them had even entered the scoring area except Weasley._

_ The Gryffindors who could be seen behind the goal posts cheered loudly._

50-80,_ Sydney mused, staring after the younger Gryffindor Chasers with equal delight and annoyance._

* * *

_**Natalie had no idea how everyone was moving around so easily. The rain heavily pattered on her, stinging her eyes and weighing the lengths of her cape down. She hovered near the spectator stands, barely keeping the end of her broom within the boundary lines of the pitch. She made sure not to fly backwards, though, as she didn't want to get a foul. But it didn't seem Mister Piff would notice the tiny little detail of her error anyway, as his eyes were keen on watching the game between the Chasers.**_

_** So far, none of them had committed any faults; even Sydney, who had barely kept herself from being disqualified in every game. She hadn't been hitting any of the players, which was a relief to Natalie; often times, either Weasley or Finnigan would come up to her and ask her to tell her friend off, showing her the bruises lined up and down their shoulders. Reggie had tried, but it became so consistent that they finally had to tell Mister Piff about it, but Sydney didn't seem so miffed about that anyway.**_

_** Her Beaters were doing a bloody good job of keeping the Bludgers away from the Chasers; Paul and Christopher's strategizing had paid off, and from where Natalie was—above everyone else—she could see their every move, and it made her proud to know that she'd trained some talented Beaters. The two of them flew across the field, weaved in and out of the enemies' grasps, always managed to perfectly aim the Bludgers, and even helped the Chasers once in a while.**_

_** But Natalie was becoming impatient. It had been a quarter of an hour into the game, with the score tied at 100-100, and the Snitch still hadn't shown itself—to either her or Loki. She eyed the other Seeker, who hovered only a few meters away, warily, noting that he was practically leaning across his broom with his chin tucked on his knuckle in boredom. His eyes seemed to be scanning everything below him as if it was the easiest thing in the world. Natalie sighed, and had only just begun to think that maybe she should be looking out for the Snitch instead of admiring her team, when he raised his green eyes and looked at her.**_

_** She looked away immediately. No doubt, he had caught her staring, but she was intent on focusing on the game and not the way he was looking at her. She blinked rapidly to clear the raindrops that had made their way into her eyes, simultaneously tucking a stray thread of hair behind her ear. A few seconds later, her now-clear eyes zoned in on a streak of gold that flit across her view; her ears perked up when, behind the constant cheering of the crowd, she heard the distant sound of wings beating in a fast pace.**_

_** That was, of course, before Loki seemed to materialize beside her and clear his throat, announcing his presence.**_

_** Natalie forced herself to look distracted, unfocused, as if she hadn't seen the obvious figure of the Golden Snitch pass her by. She snapped her head to the side and widened her eyes purposefully, almost innocently.**_

_** "Oh," she said in a small voice. "Hi, Loki." She looked away almost immediately, much like what happened only several seconds before.**_

_** "Hello," he replied curtly… as always.**_

_** Both of them looked down and watched as Dylan Malfoy blocked a shot from Patrick Newell. The Quaffle was rebounded by Sydney, who ducked past Weasley and Finnigan and zipped quickly across the pitch; she lugged the ball through one of Gryffindor's hoops, a throw that Reggie didn't catch.**_

_** "My team seems to be winning," Loki said, in a loud voice in order to be heard through the heavy burbling of the rain.**_

_** "Don't be so sure," Natalie retorted softly, watching Weasley steal a throw from Delsin Rowe and pass it to Patrick, who scored a point. Gryffindor and Slytherin were, once again, tied. Natalie beamed and glanced at Loki, but he still hadn't looked away from the match. She continued, hoping to get his attention: "See? We're tied again."**_

_** Then he looked at her, and her stomach dropped when she found the familiar glint in his eye. "Don't be so sure," he repeated, his voice smoother than before. "It's right behind you." His eyes flickered behind Natalie's head before he leaned forward and flew past her hip.**_

_** "Son of a—" Natalie whirled around and watched him fly in a curve, following close behind the Golden Snitch.**_

_** The spectators behind her gasped loudly, and she cursed, leaning forward in her own broom as she hastily flew after Loki.**_

* * *

Reggie's mind was on autopilot; he paid attention to nothing more but himself, his broom, the three hoops behind him, and the Slytherin Chasers who attempted to get the Quaffle past him.

He didn't even know what the score was anymore. Through the blurry haze of his concentration and nerves, however, he could notice the crowd going wild; their cheers ranged from cries of excitement to gasps of horror. Reggie could only assume that, either the Bludgers' enchantments had been heightened, or the Snitch had finally been found and the two Seekers were currently chasing after it.

He stopped thinking. Delsin was zooming past Gryffindor's defenses and towards him. Reggie clenched his fingers around his broom handle, tensing as his brother passed the line of the scoring area. Delsin went for the hoop at the right, and Reggie flew there, anticipating the curve of the ball, its direction. Suddenly Delsin threw the Quaffle over his shoulder. Reggie wasn't allowed to catch it, of course, so he watched with wide eyes as it freefell for a moment before Sydney caught it, her broom already pointed upwards. She flew past Reggie and chucked the ball, aiming for the middle hoop.

In a moment of panic and lucidity, Reggie dipped his broom low and performed a hasty flip. The tail end of his broom caught the Quaffle—barely—and made it fly back out the scoring area, where it was caught by Hannah Finnigan.

Reggie didn't look after her, training his eyes on his brother's face. Delsin, however, had already turned around and was following the red-caped Chasers; behind him was Sydney, and Reggie allowed a moment to himself: _Maybe they're not as 'carefree' as they peg themselves to be._ The corner of his lip curled as Finnigan scored another ten points for Gryffindor.

Again, he had no idea what their standing was, but he was positive that it was in their favor.

* * *

_**Natalie chased after Loki with a heated fervor. She trailed him down to the bleachers, past the clouds, and even behind the spectator stands even though she was fairly positive that it was supposed to be illegal. He was fast, though; but not so much him as his broom. Natalie knew that it was a model better than hers, and yet she was so close. Her hand could literally grasp the tail end of his broom; however doing so would earn her a call from the referee.**_

_** Would Mister Piff even be able to see them when they were already flying past the clouds? Natalie decided not to try, because it was dangerous either way; she didn't want either her or Loki to get hurt.**_

_** She could see the Snitch past his lean shoulder, and narrowed her eyes into slits because it was the only thing close enough to blinking at the moment. The rain stung her cheeks like needles; the freezing temperature locked her lips into place, and her legs shook beneath the broom—because of both exertion and the iciness of the air.**_

_** The Snitch veered to the left, once again making a move to return them lower to the ground. Loki threw his arm outward, and the tip of his finger might have grazed the golden object but Natalie couldn't be sure. With only one hand on his broom, he slowed down slightly. Natalie didn't make the same mistake.**_

_** She made a hard turn and soon their positions were switched; Loki trailed behind her, while the Snitch flew in front of her, barely a foot away. She squeezed her legs tighter around her broom and leaned forward even more so that her chin was an inch from the wood. Her eyes were opened wide, now, free from the onslaught of the rain, which was now freezing her backside. She ignored the uneasiness, however, and kept her eyes on the Snitch, which flickered left and right.**_

_** It was close enough now that she decided to risk stretching her arm out to grab it when she could. Vaguely, she noticed the Quidditch pitch become visible again through the clouds, and the ground barreled towards her at a dizzying speed. She and her broom were flying vertically, and the other players, both Slytherin and Gryffindor, flew so close to her that she thought they would knock her out of her broom. She didn't stop flying.**_

_** The Snitch never hit the ground as it straightened itself up, and Natalie steeled her stomach; with a hard but controlled pull of her broom, she tugged herself back into a horizontal position. Behind her, a loud guffaw escaped Loki. Natalie only smiled lightly. The chase wasn't over yet.**_

* * *

_Hannah Finnigan had brought Sydney to watch the Quidditch World Cup once with her and her family. The game lasted for more than ten hours and there were no substitutions. Another time, one of the students from Hufflepuff recounted the exciting tale of what happened in a match between two of the Durmstrang teams. "It lasted for four hours!" the Hufflepuff exclaimed._

_ Here, in the Championship game between Slytherin and Gryffindor, not two hours had passed and Sydney knew that her team was already exhausted out of their minds. Because it was a good game, she had to admit; everyone was putting their all. But that was also the problem. No one was holding back, and therefore no one had much energy left. The rain helped as much as a belt would help a boot._

_ Reggie had already called one time-out which lasted for thirty minutes, but even in those long minutes no one had gotten much rest. Scott was substituted for Lance Swansea as Slytherin Chaser, and Weasley was substituted for Eric Hao as Gryffindor Chaser. There came no relief from any of the teams as Mister Piff blew into his whistle, continuing the game._

_ By then, everyone's movements were sluggish. Sydney's breaths came out in short pants as she flew into Gryffindor's scoring area. She lugged the Quaffle, but Reggie blocked it, and an irritated groan left her mouth. She said nothing more, however, and returned to the center of the pitch._

_ Suddenly a yell echoed loud enough to be heard all across the clearing: "LOOK OUT!"_

_ Sydney rolled her eyes and turned towards the source of the sound, a question of impatience already on her lips: "What is it—"_

_ The Bludger would have shattered all the bones on her arms if she'd turned any sooner. It flew past her like lightning, splintering the wood on the head of her broom like it was slicing through butter. A loud cry left Sydney's lips, and then she was falling. She struggled to control her broom despite the fact that it had been broken in half. Like an injured bird, she spun around and lower until her legs scraped the ground._

_ A collective gasp came from the crowd, and it was all Sydney could do not to yell profanities at them. A second Bludger flew over her head, and just as she was about to release a string of every curse word she knew, a lean figure with a green cape flew out of the bleachers, its arm raised in triumph as he held something golden in his hand._

_ A second later, Natalie's red cape materialized through the rain, though she flew slowly, her head bowed._

_ "LOKI MARDLING HAS CAUGHT THE SNITCH!"_

_A wide grin spread across Sydney's face._

_ "SLYTHERIN WINS THE CHAMPIONSHIP GAME OF THE SEASON!"_

* * *

**tiny note: Sydney, Reggie, Delsin, and Natalie are Americans. don't ask me why they're in hogwarts, it's a long story.**


	3. Chapter 3

**i do not own the universe of Harry Potter, only my OC's found here.**

* * *

_Romance - Sydney_

_**Romance - Natalie**_

* * *

_ As the champions of the annual Quidditch season, the whole house of Slytherin was given permission to spend a night out in Hogsmeade; given that they get back before midnight, that is. Sydney supposed that was the closest the Ministry was ever going to get with letting overage students stay out past their bedtimes. She thought it absolutely unfair, really, the way Hogwarts was being run. The way schedules were given, that students couldn't be caught wandering the school past 10:30, the lessons being taught—but she might have found entertainment in how the lessons were taught; something interesting actually happened during Herbology once in a while._

_ Only, perhaps she just thought these things because she never actually liked school._

_ Yes, that was most likely it._

_ Smiling lightly, Sydney limped through the darkened alleys of Hogsmeade. The crowd of adults was thinning, but dozens of students still walked up and down the street, scanning inside each store through the windows. Sydney had learned to appreciate the fact that Hogsmeade was much more beautiful during the nighttime; in the daylight, it was bright, and there was no need for streetlights or neon signs. Past 5 o'clock, though, the sun would start disappearing from view and be replaced by the moon, and the clouds would be replaced with stars. They glittered in the clear sky, but not enough to light the way of every person walking down the street._

_ The shop of Weasleys' Wizarding Wheezes stood like a skyscraper in front of Sydney; it was her favorite shop in the whole valley. She stared up at the large machined face of George Weasley (or Fred, she wasn't sure), who was the co-founder of the massive shop. She knew that the latter had died during the Battle of Hogwarts during the 1990's, but it gave her joy to see his brother still up and about, running the place._

_ As usual, he stood on the very top of the winding staircase, watching the many students looking about the products with a glint in his eye. His hair had grown again since the last time she'd seen him, but Sydney couldn't be sure because it was always long; a year ago, his niece Bianca Weasley had explained to her that he kept it overgrown because he didn't want anyone staring at the flat surface on the side of his face, where his ear should have been. Everyone already knew the story of how he'd lost the ear—bloody hell, everyone knew everything about what happened at the Battle of Hogwarts._

_ There had been rumors running around saying that George's ear was knifed off by Fred during a prank when they were in their junior year, but a few months ago, George himself, in his anger, dismissed the rumor, stating that it was removed by a Curse from a Death Eater. Sydney still remembered the happening like it was yesterday, because it was the only time George lost his temper with anyone. She reckoned that it must have been awful, though, hearing someone state false truths; and about his own diseased brother, no less._

_ Sydney walked to the center of the huge receiving room and mindlessly picked up a box of Comb-a-Chameleon. She thought of buying one or two boxes and using them on Delsin or Aya, or maybe even her Quidditch captain Loki since he was always so careful with his hair, but then her attention was caught by a box of one of the Nose-Biting Teacups Aya had been telling her about. Grinning, she brought one to the counter at the end of the room, where the cashier machine was enchanted. Using her pocket money, she paid for one box of the Teacups and two boxes of Comb-a-Chameleon, just in case Hogwarts held a Senior Prank Day._

_ From above, Sydney heard someone yelling, and looked up to find George Weasley beaming down at her. "Sydney Bryce! Thank you for purchasing!" He stopped laughing abruptly and pointed at her with an obviously fake stern gaze. "Are those for Senior Prank Day?"_

_ "Hogwarts allows that?" she inquired, eyes widening in excitement when George nodded vigorously. "Awesome!" She waved her hand in a gesture of goodbye, but turned around again when he called her back:_

_ "Oi!" he yelled. "Nice game yesterday, by the way!"_

_ "Thanks!" she called back, stuffing the three colorful packages into her duffel bag for safe-keeping; she didn't want to jeopardize Senior Prank Day. "You were watching?"_

_ George trotted down the stairs and closer to her so they didn't have to keep shouting at each other. "I was the first one there," he said quickly. "Honestly, do you think I would have missed that? Americans playing in a British school for wizards—it sounds quite absurd, doesn't it? Apparently everyone was watching though. Didn't you see the cameras flashing at you?"_

_ "I was actually quite caught up with chasing the Quaffle here and there." Sydney grinned brightly at his approving gaze._

_ "Yeah, that was probably a good idea." He started stroking his chin, which had grown a thin layer of stubble over the past few weeks. "You know, me and my brother played Beaters for Gryffindor when we were fifteen—best bloody years of my life."_

_ Sydney sighed. "Mister Piff wouldn't let me wear my rings beneath the gloves though. I would have played a lot better with them on."_

_ "That was a bloody brilliant idea. You let someone named _Piff Parker_ boss you around like that? What kind of witch are you?"_

_ "The kind that doesn't want to get suspended, I think."_

_ The Weasley grinned. "Yes, well, only a few more months and you'll be a graduate." _

_ She sighed, finding the thought of her graduating to be a lucid dream. "I have no idea what to do with my life, though."_

_ "When you haven't found a job after the first year, ring me, yeah?" he said, and Sydney almost forgot what the meaning of _ring_ was. "I could hook you a job in one of Wheezes' shops down the country; hopefully, they'll have a messed-up cashier machine."_

_ Sydney guffawed. "I doubt I could count the money properly. But yeah, I'll do that. Thanks, George."_

_ "No problem, American."_

_ She rolled her eyes at his stupid nickname, fondly watching him jump his niece Bianca Weasley, who had been standing by the windows, looking over the rows of boxes of Weather-in-a-Bottle. Sydney frowned, however, when she noticed the white that was peeking out of the red tufts of hair George had. Seeing them, saddened her, but she was forced out of her reverie when she heard someone rapping on the windowsill to her far left. Her head snapped to the side and she found that it was Delsin standing outside, his summer coat wrapped around him. _

_ He motioned for her to come outside, and she did, slowly._

_ "What were you doing in there?" he asked, seemingly out of breath._

_ Sydney raised an eyebrow but didn't question it. "I bought some stuff," she replied vaguely, shaking her bag and grinning when his nervous look became heightened._

_ "Stuff as in… for pranks?" he continued, and she briskly bobbed her head. "Well, they're pranks on Reggie… right?"_

_ "Secret," Sydney said in a sing-songy voice, watching as he cringed slightly. "Anyway, what's up? I thought you'd be in the village drinking with Loki or something." She didn't mean to sound very bitter; really, she didn't. But by the furrow that appeared between Delsin's eyebrows, she guessed that she had sounded very bitter._

_ "Loki didn't come," he said, muttering slightly. "He told me he'd rather spend his night in the castle."_

_ Sydney scoffed. "I bet he just wanted to sneak into the Gryffindor common rooms to be with Nat."_

_ "Yeah…" was the awkward, slow reply. By then, Delsin had put his hands in his pockets and started rocking on the heels of his feet; he wouldn't meet Sydney's gaze, which was odd. It had been going on for some time now. Whenever he was left alone with her, he would fall silent, but with the others he acted as noisy and irritating as he always did. Sydney wanted to know what was going on._

_ So, "Is something wrong?" she inquired softly. Delsin's eyes flickered up at her for a fraction of a moment before going down again._

_ "Nothing," he murmured. "I'm just… I was wondering if… See, Reg told me something and I thought… Oh bloody hell—"_

_ Sydney laughed, crossing her arms. "Did Aya mess up with her Tongue Tying Curse again? I swear, it's one of the easiest spells on the book and I'm seriously wondering whether she is pureblood or not—"_

_ "Aya didn't jinx me," Delsin interrupted quietly, and Sydney fell into a respectable silence. She eyed the boy with narrowed eyes, noting the way his copper skin stood out so much within the crowd of fair-skinned wizards. He wore his red beanie again though, which he always did whenever he wasn't in his school robes and wasn't required to take it off. Sydney couldn't figure out why he wanted it on so much, because his hair fit him perfectly._

_ But she never risked asking him about it, instead learning to love the way the hat looked on his head._

_ "Look," he started, somewhat uncertainly. "Since we won the Championship, and with all the celebrating going around, I was wondering if maybe you'd… I don't know… want to have a few drinks with me, I guess?"_

_ A small smile crept up Sydney's lips, one she forced to disappear. It felt new to her, seeing Delsin getting so tongue-tied and fidgety—so new, in fact, that she didn't know what to feel. She decided to be straightforward and said, "Like a date?"_

_ "Yeah," he replied hastily. "Exactly like that."_

_ Again, Sydney didn't know what to feel. Her mind went blank after that, but she suddenly knew why he'd been acting so awkward around her so much. She could only assume that he liked her or something like that, because he'd just asked her out on a date. However, she refused to be the one to start making their first date awkward._

_ Grinning from ear to ear, she huffed loudly and looped her arm through his. From the corner of her eye, she saw his eyes widen in surprise, but made no move to acknowledge it._

_ "We still have a few hours to kill," said Sydney, gazing at him with a happy expression as she started walking deeper into Hogsmeade; thankfully, he didn't make her lug him around. "Butter beers, then?"_

_ He nodded quickly, "Yeah, butter beers…" but trailed off soon after._

_ A crease crawled its way up Sydney's eyebrows as she thought of only one way to reassure him; it couldn't be so bad, right? She'd seen him kiss many girls, and all of them seemed to enjoy it. Sydney had kissed quite a few boys herself, but in her and Delsin's nervous states, would it even be worthwhile?_

_ She decided to risk it._

_ Leading them subtly into a dark corner behind a food shack, Sydney steeled her gut; she removed her arm from his, and though a disappointed frown made its way onto his face, it quickly disappeared when she placed her lips on his. Her eyes remained opened for a few moments, barely being able to watch his reaction through the butterflies fluttering in her stomach. She saw his eyebrows rise up in surprise while his lips remained frozen, and then a second later they relaxed, and he kissed her back._

_ Sydney closed her eyes, then, and allowed herself to really feel the beautiful sensations coursing through her: Delsin's nose brushing against hers, the soft feeling of his lips, his breath fanning over her chin. Everything felt perfect. When she finally pulled away, the fluttering feeling still hadn't left, but she felt different… the good kind of different. She opened her eyes and waited for Delsin to do the same; when he did, she offered him a wide smile, something he, thankfully, returned._

* * *

_**Harry Potter was probably the most famous wizard in all of Hogwarts, even though he had already graduated; next to the other survivors of the Great War, he made them look like foot soldiers compared to him. Natalie supposed that it was rather sad and unfair, because most of her house mates in Gryffindor had fathers and mothers who were survivors—including Bianca Weasley.**_

_** The young Chaser's father was Ron Weasley, and her mother was Hermione Granger, AKA the two best friends of Harry Potter. It barely made Bianca more famous than the rest of the children, though, but she was a decent girl. Which was why Natalie didn't hesitate in asking her for favors once in a while. She wasn't sure it could be called favors, because she only ever asked for one… several times. And it wasn't an easy favor either, because Natalie very much doubted that Harry Potter would lend his Invisibility Cloak to just anyone.**_

_** He probably thought Bianca was hoping to get herself into all kinds of trouble, but from what Natalie had heard from the older portraits in the castle, Potter had been a troublemaker as well. "Not as bad as any of the Slytherins, though," Phineas Nigellus had once told her, "But he was very close!" It was probably for that same reason that Harry always agreed to let Bianca borrow his Cloak.**_

_** Again, it was always a favor from Natalie. If she had to guess, Bianca had never used the Cloak, not once. She was a very quiet girl, never got herself into much trouble, like her siblings.**_

_** So, Natalie walked along the dark, silent corridors of the castle. The only thing illuminating her way was her wand, which she had lit with **_**Lumos**_**, and the thin rays of moonlight that passed through the stained glass windows. Although, there were few of those, considering she only walked to the outer portions of the school if only necessary. Through most of her wanderings, though, she kept to the deeper parts.**_

_** She always did this—walked along the darkened passages of the castle beneath the Invisibility Cloak—when she was feeling sulky. She had been feeling sulky since the very minute she lost the Snitch to Loki, which was yesterday. In her earlier years, she had learned that, if she didn't take at least an hour to herself, especially when there was a pit in her stomach, she would end up snapping at someone. Whenever that happened, it was with one of her friends, because they were the only ones who would bother to badger her every hour of every day.**_

_** The feeling of indignation and misery slowly died down as Natalie found herself in the middle of the Library, between two rows of massive bookshelves that would have contained at least a million pages. The door had been unlocked, but she had stopped wondering why that was ages ago, because it always was. She pulled up a chair for her own, but halted in her tracks when she noticed a faint wandlight in the distance that was not her own.**_

_** She put out the light of her wand and, slowly, she moved towards the source, and found Loki Mardling reading an impressive-sized book. His eyes glazed over the words with obvious interest, and Natalie observed him from afar, wondering how many times a week he would sneak out of the dorms and come here. And then—**_

_** "I know you're there," he said in a soft voice, not taking his eyes off the page. "Come out."**_

_** Natalie froze on the spot. How had he known? Surely she'd been quiet enough, or was his hearing keener than he'd ever bothered to tell her. For a moment, she thought about turning around and leaving, because he wouldn't have known better; the Cloak hid her from all eyes, and she made sure it hid her feet as well. But to do so would technically mean lying to him, and she didn't want to do that, however tempting it was.**_

_** With an inaudible sigh, she removed the Cloak from her head.**_

_** Loki's eyes widened slightly. "Natalie," he murmured. "I… wasn't expecting to see you."**_

_** "I never go here unless I need to." She smiled lightly. "I thought you'd be in Hogsmeade, with your team."**_

_** "I find it childish, celebrating by getting drunk. I'm much more content here in the silence."**_

_** "Slytherins do love their books."**_

_** She'd been hoping to coax a laugh out of him, and quite possibly herself as well. But somewhat tentatively, Loki just closed the book he had been so intent on reading. Natalie made the Cloak into a tight roll and tucked it beneath her arm, avoiding his searching gaze. She wasn't to evade the lingering question on his lips for long, though.**_

_** "How are you?" he finally asked. "I haven't had the chance to speak with you since before the match. I thought you might be angry with me…" He trailed off, and Natalie risked a quick look at him to find a frown etched on his face. "Are you angry with me?"**_

_** She didn't answer immediately, instead pulling up a chair for herself and taking a seat. "I'm not sure yet," she replied quietly, looking up to meet his intense gaze.**_

_** "I am sorry, Natalie," he told her. "But one of us had to catch it at some point. I honestly think you would have won Gryffindor the trophy if that damn Bludger hadn't nicked your shoulder."**_

_** Natalie grimaced, taking a quick glance down at her left shoulder. The Bludger had caught her from behind, but it stung just as much. Nurse Yvette had patched it up quickly, anyway, and there weren't any broken bones; except Natalie would have taken a broken bone than experienced yet another loss against her boyfriend. She said nothing and waited for Loki to fill in the silence, which he did.**_

_** "You're upset," he said. Natalie nodded once. "About the game?" She shook her head. "… About me?" Hesitantly, she nodded again. And he opened his mouth to say more but she beat him to it.**_

_** "You're insanely good at everything, you know that?" she whispered softly. "I was hoping to win at least a Quidditch match from you."**_

_** It was put in the least bit of words, yet he seemed to understand perfectly. Loki nodded, and a sad smile crept up his face. "You should have told me sooner. I would have let you win."**_

_** "But I don't want that!" Natalie's gaze hardened. "I want to actually earn a winning point against you. I wouldn't want to win knowing you had forced yourself to play it easy with me; it wouldn't mean anything. Being one of the stupid Americans in this school, I wanna—"**_

_** She stopped when Loki started laughing. Loudly. The library only filled with silence once more when Natalie cupped her hands over his mouth to muffle the noise. She pulled them away seconds later but found the wide grin still stretched across his face.**_

_** "Stupid American?" he murmured, chuckling. "Natalie Hunt, you are one of the smartest people I've met, and your friends are interesting to say the least!" She smiled slightly at that. He leaned forward in his chair and stared her right in the eye, and she wasn't willing enough to look away. "I won't go easy on you, but if you ever want me to, I will. And about Quidditch…" He paused for a moment. "I'll tell my father to buy you a new broomstick."**_

_** "Really!" Natalie laughed, and this time, it was Loki's turn to shush her. She continued giggling inwardly, and she repeated in a hush tone: "Really?"**_

_** "He likes you," he replied earnestly. "A broomstick like mine would barely endanger his wallet."**_

_** She grinned. "That's just because your dad works at the Ministry. I bet George from Wizarding Wheezes could get me one of those old-fashioned Firebolts, though."**_

_** "Oh, I love that man."**_

_** "Should I be jealous?"**_

_** "Be careful, a month or two of not talking to me and I might get away from you."**_

_** Loki giggled as Natalie punched his arm playfully, but he quickly turned it into his advantage, pulling her by her forearm, from her seat and onto his lap; he hugged her tightly, and it was in her very best aspirations to hug him back.**_

* * *

**once again, this was just for funzies. but reviews are always appreciated. :)**


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